By the end of this speech, Lady Irving was visibly bored by James’s excited recital of repairs.

“Yes, yes, congratulations, dear boy. Your house is sound and that is an excellent thing, no doubt. Now, I’m sure there are other parts of the house you’d like to show us, too? Perhaps some. . romantic places? That you and Louisa could go see while the rest of us have some tea?”

Julia rolled her eyes and tried to catch Louisa’s gaze, but the taller girl was looking at the floor. Her face was expressionless, but her hands twisted together in agitation.

James seemed not to notice. “Lady Irving, I am surprised to say I think that a delightful idea,” he replied, ignoring her huff in response. “In fact, why don’t we all have tea? I’ll have refreshment sent in at once and we can all have a seat in”—he peeped into a room off the entrance hall, and closed the door, shaking his head—“well, not in there. No furniture. Um, perhaps this next one?”

He opened the second door off the hall. “Yes, this one’ll do.” He gave an embarrassed smile to his guests. “Sorry, still sorting things out.”

Lady Irving glanced around the damask-walled parlor. Its heavy, dark furniture created a gloomy atmosphere. “If all your furniture is like this, perhaps that other room would be an improvement. You’ll have to get rid of everything for this parlor even to begin to be habitable.”

“Aunt,” Julia hissed, mortified. “I am sure his lordship is doing his best to be an excellent host.”

James overheard her and shrugged. “I’m afraid I haven’t done that well so far,” he replied. “I’ve made you stand around with no tea, and didn’t even know which room was ready to receive you. But as I’ve told some among you, I admit I have a lot to learn about running an estate in general, and about this house in particular.”

He smiled at Julia, reminding her of their conversation of several weeks before. “Every day, some new part is torn up and put together again differently.”

Then, turning his attention to Louisa, he said, “My dear, just for you, I made sure there were no holes in the floor for your visit.” This finally drew a quick flash of a smile from Louisa.

Julia, watching them, was surprised to feel a twist of envy that shivered through her whole body when James called her sister “my dear.” She wanted those words for herself, so badly she could almost feel them like a caress. Not from James, of course, for he could never be hers.

But perhaps from someone exactly like him.

Her attention was turned a moment later by Simone, who entered the room followed by a housemaid bearing the tea things.

Tea and biscuits — very good ones, Julia was happy to note — distracted them all for the next half hour; then James proposed a tour of the house before dinner.

“No, we would prefer to rest in our rooms,” Lady Irving informed him. “Except for Louisa, of course. She would prefer to see every secluded corner you’ve got in this drafty old pile of stones. Wouldn’t you, my girl?”

Louisa looked embarrassed and opened her mouth to speak, but Julia broke in before she knew what she was saying.

“Actually, Aunt, I would love to see the house, too.” The words slipped out before she could consider her motivation. And it didn’t really matter, anyway, because Louisa looked relieved.

James saw a rather grumpy Lady Irving and her impassive companion settled, then again offered both of his arms to the two sisters as they strolled down a long hall.

“This is very nice,” he observed. “Peaceful at last, isn’t it? I’m very glad to have the two of you here and show you the house. I expect you’ll both be spending a lot of time here in the future. Louisa, especially you,” he teased.

Louisa merely nodded. “What do you have in mind to show us?”

“I’m not sure,” James admitted. “I haven’t figured out the whole layout of the house yet. I hadn’t been here for decades, you know, so I hardly knew the place when I saw it.”

He paused in his walking. “Shall we just start opening doors? Or is there something you’d like me to try to find for you?”

“An orangery,” Julia replied promptly.

“The library,” Louisa answered a second later.

The viscount laughed. “There’s no orangery here, Julia. If there ever was, it’s dwindled away long ago.”

Her request had been the impulse of a moment; she just wanted something to say to capture James’s attention. And now that she had, she wanted to keep it, though she knew that was probably impolite.

“That’s too bad,” she began to blather. “I think oranges are really pretty. And good to eat, of course. I mean, that’s why most people grow them. But I think they must make a beautiful sight as well, seeing the trees in their pots and all the bright fruits on them.”

Louisa was looking at her as if Julia had an arm growing out of her forehead. “Where have you ever even seen an orangery?”

“I haven’t,” Julia confessed. “I’ve just read about them. But I’ve wanted to see one for a long time.” Which was true, if you defined “long” as “at least a minute and a half.”

“I’m very sorry not to be able to gratify the wish of a lifetime,” James said with a friendly smile. Turning to Louisa, he added, “But your request I can satisfy, my dear. Nicholls does have a library, and I even know where it is. Shall we?”

There it was, that envious twinge again. Julia made a vow to leave the couple some time to themselves in the library. After all, if such a simple phrase as “my dear” could have such a strong effect on her, what must it do to Louisa?



In the library, James was gratified to see Louisa’s face glow with appreciation. She looked around at the ornately carved shelves, the comfortably carpeted floor, stylish chairs and sturdy sofa grouped about the large room.

“Why, James,” she said, a rare and beautiful smile lighting her countenance, “this room is lovely. Just lovely. Surely it wasn’t like this before you began work on the house?”

Earning such a delighted smile from Louisa was a rare gift, and James valued it as such.

“It was not,” he replied, pride welling up within him. “I started the renovations with this room as a surprise for you. I am so glad you like it.”

She smiled at him again, but her expression was already absent as her eyes began to rove over the shelves. “It’s wonderful. I love it. Thank you for your kindness.”

An uncertain expression stole across her face, and she looked over at Julia. The fair-haired girl was sitting at the opposite end of the room, paging through a collection of maps with a look of great interest. James followed her gaze, and the familiar frisson of awareness shot through him. He might have conquered that initial attraction to her — well, mostly — but damnation, it was good to be around her again.

But Louisa — back to Louisa. “I never knew Julia cared for maps,” she was musing. “Perhaps she’s giving us some time to speak privately.”

“If that’s so, I’m grateful to her,” the viscount said, ushering his fiancée to the room’s most comfortable chair and then seating himself near her. “I hoped we would have time to talk.”

She shot him that wary look again. He sighed and considered how best to explain himself.

“Louisa, I know talk of our marriage makes you uncomfortable. Please be assured, I don’t intend to pressure you to set a wedding date or in any way take part in the next London season more than you wish to.”

It was frustrating to have to be so delicate. Louisa had snapped up his offer so quickly, he’d been sure she would be willing to become his bride at once. Instead, months were passing, and he was no closer to the altar than he had been at the end of the season. For all he knew, the thin company that remained in London over the winter was still amusing itself by nattering at the expense of his sister’s good name.

But apparently what he’d said was good enough, because Louisa’s wary look at once dissolved into relief. James continued cautiously, “I just. . thought it would be nice for us to have a chance to talk to one another. About life — our life. What we want to do after we are married.”

Her pale cheeks colored at once and she bit her lip. James mentally berated himself for his word choice. The last thing his skittish bride-to-be needed to hear was anything that sounded like a reference to marital activities.

“I mean,” he corrected smoothly, “where we will spend our time, how you’d like to see the house fitted out. . things of that nature. I remember how you wanted the seashell-shaped bathtub, though I haven’t commissioned it yet,” he teased, attempting to lighten her mood.

“Well,” Louisa reflected, “I’m willing to leave the choice of how the house will be furnished to you. The library’s to my liking, and I may not be in many of the other rooms, so they really should fall according to your taste.”

Disappointment seeped through James. He was trying his hardest to please her, and she was parrying his every attempt to strike at her heart, or even at her conscience. How could he provoke her into showing some enthusiasm?

“But. . you’ll be receiving guests. Your friends, your family,” he prompted her. “And you’ll have your own bedchamber — if you’ll excuse my mentioning it,” he added. “That should certainly be made the way you like it.”

“Isn’t it more important that you should like it?” Louisa replied, her smile an ironic twist.

James felt as if he were walking on a beach with quicksand somewhere nearby. Any misstep could land him in trouble, but he had no idea what such a misstep might be. He felt suddenly tense and frustrated.

“I want you to have things as you like them once we are married,” James repeated carefully. “But if you honestly have no preference, then I’ll do my best to guess, as I did in the library.”